


Ancient Blood [incomplete]

by Jammy



Category: Neopets
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Angst, Drama, Family, Family History, I wish I knew bro pfffft, M/M, Romance, Vent Writing, sorta - Freeform, ventart, writers block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jammy/pseuds/Jammy
Summary: Some family history is rich with politics, battles or conquering.Some families have the stories and songs passed from generation to generation, but Jenner discovers that Kanrik's family isn't that of one he thought they were. They had a rich history, yes, but what he thought happened many years ago was that of just a few generations passed. Just how old is this family? How old is this thief, truly?





	Ancient Blood [incomplete]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [werelupewoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/werelupewoods/gifts).



> ~~Gotta tag Em, 'cause it got her husband in it ofc~~
> 
>  
> 
> //waves hands all over the place//
> 
> Golly gee, I wish I knew what the hell was happening here. 
> 
> Some of this is my headcanon by the way, Kanrik's uncles--his sisters and his mother and her twin brother are all hella old. Even Alphonse is older than he lets on but his age is nowhere near to what matches his brother and brother-in-laws ages. Made possible thanks to magic, blessings they received from 'offerings' and other magical properties, the part you don't get to see however is Kanrik desperately trying to figure out how his mother died after his birth and how he witnessed his sister dying in front of him if they "get to live so long". 
> 
> Anyways, this is all incomplete and I doubt this will ever see the light of day. 
> 
> But here's wonderwall....

It wasn’t common that Kanrik would be the one who would start humming to himself out of the blue, though, not that Jenner could really blame him either. Sometimes the silence was just—suffocating, or awkward and the only way to fill that silence was to hear the deep bass or the soft melody coming from within you. Tonight Kanrik was doing inventory, the assassin was here keeping him company so that after he was finished they can both share a very late dinner and then call it a night. Jenner was off to the side, playing with little puffs of black magic in between his grasp and letting it swirl high enough into the air and then let it drop, the tendrils slipping through his fingers and coating them in some magical powder like residue and ‘catching’ it before it hits the floor, all to do it over again.

 

Jenner would love to hum along but...this tune wasn’t one that he’s heard of before, at least, not by the melody.

 

He looks up to see Kanrik’s face and he’s relieved to see that he’s calm, flipping through a couple of papers and turning trinkets in his hands to look the objects over. When he’s watching Kanrik as he continues to hum this mysterious tune the thief’s green eyes flash with some unknown passion, and absentmindedly he begins to sing…

 

Jenner made the smoke in his hands disappear and he leans against the wooden beam more as he watches as Kanrik transforms before his very eyes. He catches on to the song’s meaning very quickly, oddly enough, maybe because it just feels so familiar. As silly as that is. Kanrik sits up a little straighter in his seat and his fingers in his free hand are now tapping to the song, to accompany the tune he was humming earlier. The young gelert’s voice sounds airy and light at first as he sings about the moon guiding the way back to ‘our home, the kingdom’, the moon singing it’s own tune to guide the sons and fathers back from the battle in the north. Then in an instant his tapping becomes quickened his tone drops to another almost foreign color and the look of determination cloaks his face as he sings about meeting strangers, not forgetting ‘the attackers’, fighting for as long as they are breathing and riding the storm that is to come, even if the flames claim their lives. Unfortunately for Jenner the moment he hears the mention of the flames his mind comes to a very familiar piece of literature he’s read ages ago and he can’t help but snap his fingers in realization.

 

“The battle of Syra.”

 

“What?” Kanrik nearly yelps the moment he hears Jenner’s voice, the longer that the two are staring at each other the more uncomfortable the air between them is becoming and they both finally end up laughing gently, nervously, and turning away. “S-Sorry, I...uh…”

 

“Don’t be sorry, I understand.” Jenner answers before the thief can have the time to finish, he waves a finger in the air in thought and looks back to Kanrik again, realizing that he is still watching him. “The battle of Syra was a popular poem, I didn’t think that it was a song.”

 

“It was a song before it was a poem, Jenry.” Kanrik answers matter of fact, his smug grin getting even larger as the assassin asks ‘oh really?’ in the most unconvinced tone he can ever muster. “Yes, it was. It was a chant that the warriors of Syracuse were to memorize for when they were to ever go into battle. The lower officers are to play the drums and use their voices as a tune ‘placement’ and the others sang the lyrics.” Kanrik turns himself back to his work and picks up the quill pen so that he can finish up the last of the numbers, “The battle is lost when the last warrior stops singing.”

 

“That’s...peculiar.” Jenner musters with a slight brow raise, tapping his chin in thought with his knuckle as he tries to piece together just how truthful that sounds, but, well it does sound like something that Syracuse would do. It was a peaceful kingdom overall but back in it’s earliest days they were at war with dragons, thus the poem—er—song, The battle of Syra, the mighty queen of the old kingdom went off to war with her champions against these dragons and she had lost her life in the battle, her son, the one who had defeated the King of Dragons had made the song in her honor and to improve the morale of his soldiers. Soon, the kingdom of Syracuse was born, in remembrance of the queen.

 

“What other lies have they told you about my kingdom and it’s history?”

 

“ _ **Your**_ kingdom?” Jenner laughs aloud though Kanrik just shrugs his shoulders and continues to sort, almost looking theatrically happy at work with an amused grin on his face and his fingers moving almost playfully across the jewels and other treasures on his desk. “Why Kani, I didn’t think you stole a kingdom as well. Now that’s impressive.” his tone was painfully sarcastic, so much so it almost hurt his own ears at hearing himself, but it did nothing to the thief’s mood. “And besides, ‘they’? ‘They’ who?”

 

“The outsiders, of course.”

 

“Aren’t you an outsider yourself? You weren’t exactly born in Syracuse, dearest.” Kanrik stops his hands and the smile breifely leaves his muzzle the moment that he had mentioned it, for a minute the young guild master appears to be pained at what Jenner had said but then his demeanor returns and so does the smile. He puts the pen back into the holder next to the bottle of ink and he turns to face the assassin, his arms resting over his chest comfortably and one leg crossed over the other.

 

“Jenner, do you believe that some can be born a second time? Or maybe a third time?” Jenner’s shoulders stiffen at the question, and though he doesn’t mean to he hisses out a ‘why?’. “Do you believe in it or not? Because if you don’t then it won’t make any sense for me to explain my thoughts to you.” Does he believe in rebirth? Of course. He hasn’t been the luckiest when it came to becoming a new person, he had a life before, he had everything he ever wanted and after his rebirth everything changed. He changed, his life changed everything he’s ever thought and come across as horrible became his new lifestyle.

 

“I believe in rebirth, yes, and I believe that rebirth isn’t always a good thing either.”

 

“Ou, interesting.” Kanrik says with a satisfied nod of his head, though he can see the darkness that is becoming to cover the grey gelert’s face as he mentions rebirth he decides that maybe he can ease away from the darker side of the conversation—at least, the darker side of Jenner’s life. “Well, I believe in it to. I was born as Arlen—Arlen Devant, then when I turned thirteen I was born Arlen Thunderhand—because I had seen where I came from. Syracuse, the land of the ancients, my family’s birthright is to rule and protect the kingdom. And then, years ago, I became Kanrik.” He pauses to make sure that Jenner is following along and seeing that the assassin nods his head slowly he takes it upon himself to continue, “Well, soon—or maybe not soon—maybe many, many, years from now I will be reborn again. I will have to go home, to Syracuse, and to lay my life down for the kingdom, to give back the identity that Syra has given me years ago.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jenner says waving his hands as if to slow down the discussion, Kanrik crosses his arms again and waits, “What—exactly are you saying, Kanrik? That you believe sometime in the future you have to go back to Syracuse….to die in battle?”

 

“Yup. Or, just to die, to keep it simply.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense--”

 

“It makes perfect sense, I mean, I kinda owe it to my grandmother because if it wasn’t for her my mother wouldn’t have been alive and given birth to me.” Jenner’s eyes widen and it takes a solid minute of silence before he finally recognizes just what it was that Kanrik had said, he owes it to Syra—his _grandmother_?

 

“Kanrik.” Jenner reaches up with his hand to pinch the middle of his eyes with a hand still covered in magical residue, not knowing that when he lets go the residue paints the space in between his eyes purple. “Syra….the last known document of Syra’s life was more than eight hundred years ago.” ‘Uh huh’ Kanrik answers unphased, the assassin takes a deep breath through his nose and out from his mouth, to calm himself down and just hoping that this isn’t a crude joke the thief is playing on him. “So you know that it’s almost impossible for her to have been your grandmother. That would make you almost—six hundred years old if that was the case.”

 

“Or my mother died at almost seven hundred.” Jenner was about to say something among the lines of ‘that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say’ but the moment he looks at Kanrik’s eyes, sees that he’s just genuinely serious and Jenner shuts his mouth to think a little. Or, rather, think a LOT.

 

“Kanrik, how old are you?”

 

“Twenty six.”

 

“And your sisters?”

 

“I have no idea.” Kanrik shrugs his shoulders and can’t help look to the side and laugh a little, “I...they never told me their age, and I never got the chance to ask. If it makes it even worse, I know the youngest of my sisters is easily double then Dahlia’s age.”

 

“Fyora’s might--” Jenner gasps and then he thinks about it some more, it was beginning to make a little bit of more sense, Cathal’s age and the time when he studied at the Cathedral, this man named Aridan who had traveled all over with his sister to heal others and fight monsters that were no longer part of Neopia. They all came from a land that was far before their time, he can’t help but look up at Kanrik who’s starting to look a nervous where he sat, as if noticing his change in emotion Kanrik immediately looks away. “How….uh….how in the world--?”

 

 

“Oh man, I wish I knew.” Kanrik laughs softly, his eyes turn to the side and he’s trying his best to look confident but this has been a secret he had vowed to take to his grave. But, well, now Jenner knows. No one was supposed to know any of this, it was too dangerous. Jenner could see it on the young rogue’s face, the inner turmoils he was facing and he then realizes that this was all very—very—private family information. Jenner nods his head slowly, humming to himself and then looking back up to the thief with a small chuckled laugh.

 

“So, how long does that mean I have to put up with you?”

 

“A very, very long time apparently.”


End file.
